


Breakfast

by seaquestions



Category: Transformers (Marvel Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Domestic Fluff, M/M, Post-War, Pre-Slash, after tf marvel uk #187, but like.. dont catch feelings right guys. right., u dont have 2 know a thing abt it tho, when u have breakfast w/ ur enemy who ure working w/ to write a peace treaty
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-03
Updated: 2020-07-03
Packaged: 2021-03-04 18:54:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,302
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25051228
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seaquestions/pseuds/seaquestions
Summary: "We don'thaveto kill each other," he had told him, "What do you say?"or, Soundwave finds himself charmed by Ultra Magnus' effort.
Relationships: Soundwave/Ultra Magnus
Comments: 8
Kudos: 87





	Breakfast

**Author's Note:**

> [marvel uk soundwave contemplates peace for a hot second but says no.](https://seaquestions.tumblr.com/post/622600404693401600/not-gonna-lie-this-is-kinda-spicyyyyy) but i think he just needs a little convincing.

When Soundwave wakes up, he finds himself on a large, comfortable berth, his frame covered by a weighted blanket. It's such an unfamiliar setting, and yet such a cozy one, that his combat systems couldn't decide whether to online or not. The drawback to being a Decepticon, he supposes. When the rest of his brain module wakes up soon after, he's able to recognise the room he's in as Ultra Magnus' personal quarters and allow his weapons systems to calm down. 

Huh.

Now isn't that funny. The thought that being in an Autobot's room brings him a sense of security, and not danger.

[It's not funny. It's wrong. It's a trick, this is unsustainable, and you know it.]

He does know. But, that doesn't mean he can't milk the Autobots' hospitality for all it's worth. He has to admit, their energon does taste a little better than what he's used to back at the Decepticon stronghold.

He thinks he must have made a noise or something, because Ultra Magnus calls out to him.

“Soundwave? Are you awake?”

The Decepticon turns his head to the side to look at the mech. Big, blue and red, Ultra Magnus stands at the designated refueling corner (or, kitchen) of the room, by the energon dispenser on the counter, a sink, some cabinets, a small table and two different chairs. One of the chairs is very obviously the one Magnus uses at his desk, for work. It's big and worn, but comfortable, in contrast to the other one, a very run-of-the-mill average-sized standard-issue chair. Looking around, they seem to be the only places to sit other than the berth in the entire room. It's clear to Soundwave that the mech doesn't get many visitors. 

“Soundwave?” Magnus calls out again.

His gold visor resets twice. “Hm?”

With a small smile, the Autobot asks, “Would you like to refuel? Before we work on the treaty some more later.”

At the sound of the word "treaty", Soundwave unintentionally lets out a groan.

“…Or not. It's your choice.”

[Are you just going to let yourself be this vulnerable around him? Around an Autobot?]

Soundwave shakes his head, and peels away the blanket. It's a shame, it was soft. But he has to get up. Checking his chronometer, he notices that it's much later then when he usually wakes up anyway. Last night’s work must have really tired him out. Soundwave remembers that they were talking about property damage laws when he nearly passed out and Magnus decided that they were perhaps pushing it too hard and carried him to the berth. Soundwave was used to running on low charge though, and waking up before sunrise. Right now, the sun shines through the window and lights up the counter Magnus is standing by. As well as the mech himself.

“I've prepared a cube for you.” Magnus gestures towards the table, not moving away from the counter, doing… whatever it is that he's doing.

What _is_ he doing?

Soundwave stands up, reluctantly leaving the warm berth behind. As he walks towards the kitchen, he notices that there are two servings of energon on the table. One sits by the office chair, in a generic cube. The other, by the regular chair closer to where Magnus is standing, is in a mug, an obviously personalised one. It has an image of the Autobot insignia on it, as well as the words “Number One Ultra Magnus” in bold letters. Soundwave does want to refuel, but he is a bit curious as to what Magnus is doing. He skips the cube, grabs the mug, and takes a sip from it while leaning over Magnus's wide shoulder to peer at the mech's… cookies?

On the counter is a bowl with what appears to be cookie dough, and a tray, where a few balls of soon-to-be-cookies sit in patience.

“You bake?” Soundwave asks, taking another sip of energon.

Magnus turns his head to address the Decepticon currently drinking out of his mug. “Hm? Oh, yes. A small hobby of mine,” he answers, as he picks up some more dough, rolls it into a small ball and gently places it onto the tray.

An even distribution, perfectly spaced out for when they expand, Soundwave notes.

The Decepticon takes one last sip and places the mug down on the counter.

“So. Plans for today?” he asks, sliding his battlemask back on.

Magnus hums and says, “Finish this first, obviously. Then visit the Technobots for a klik; Scattershot commed me last night for some problem they had, not too dire but I want to check up on them anyway. Though, I'm not sure if they'd like seeing you shadowing me—”

“—But it's better than leaving me unattended, is that right?” Soundwave asks, cheekily.

Magnus pauses. “No, I can trust you not to do anything that would break the truce.”

“Can you? Really?”

The Autobot wipes his hands clean and places the tray of unbaked cookies into an oven.

He looks at Soundwave in the optics, straight through the visor. “I can.”

Magnus picks up his mug and takes a swig. “You'll still be with me though.”

“Hmm. Alright. I don't mind sticking around you, I suppose. I've been starved for intelligent company for a while.” Soundwave says, slightly upset that his stealing Magnus' drink didn't bother the Autobot even a little bit, “What next, then? More work on treaty?”

“Of course,” Ultra Magnus answers. “I've called a few scientists as well this time, we're going to need their expertise on some of the issues we haven't even touched on yet due to our own lack of knowledge.”

He then hands the mug back to Soundwave.

[Wh—Is. Is this what we're doing now? Drinking from the same cup??]

Apparently so. Soundwave opens up his mask and lifts the mug up to take another sip.

The Autobots' energon really _does_ taste better. He wonders why he refused the truce the first time. It's a good thing Magnus asked him again.

("We don't _have_ to kill each other," he had told him, "What do you say?"

And that time Soundwave was so tired, so worn down and eager to rest, that he agreed with the Autobot.)

Ultra Magnus sets a timer for when the cookies will be ready, then sits down, taking out a datapad from his subspace. 

“Feel free to sit down if you want,” he says, gesturing to the big, comfortable office chair across from him.

Truly, Soundwave wonders why he ever thought peace wasn't an option. He doesn't think he's ever been so pampered in his life.

Maybe it's just because all of Ultra Magnus' furniture is oversized, maybe all of Autobase is just a little warmer and more decorated and _maybe_ it's because Soundwave had never really let himself have small luxuries—but he can feel himself being won over.

He sits down and looks at the big mech sitting across from him. The Ultra Magnus he normally sees on the battlefield is an imposing mech, barking out commands with practised ease. This Magnus slouches, has lines under his bright blue eyes, and squints when reading. This Magnus sleeps on the floor when he has a guest around, bakes cookies, and checks up on his subordinates. 

Soundwave feels an ache inside his chest, and it's not from Rumble's snoring, or any of his cassettes. There's a part of him that still believes that this is all too good to be true, that there's a catch somewhere, that the truce won't hold. But there's another part of him who wants so badly to finally have some damn peace and quiet, to not have to worry about survival anymore, who wants to build a home, with his loving symbiotes and a loving—

…Oh, Soundwave really _can_ feel himself being won over.


End file.
